CHAPTER 4: Crossing the Line of Solitude
Christine spent the next day locked in her room, scared to find out what would happen if she dared to leave. As she lay on the bed staring at the ceiling, she heard a light knocking sound coming from the large, painted black door that stood in front of her. Rising from her previous resting place, she went to the door to find who her caller was. When she turned the knob to open the door, she was greeted by the woman who wore the same jet black dress with the hair to match who had greeted her earlier.
"Oh, hello." "Good evening, Christine. How are you?" "I-I'm alright, thank you," Somehow when this woman showed her empathy, it did not seem threatening or condescending, as it did when the man in the black, or Erik as Meg had told her, showed her any compassion. "You must be hungry." It was then that Christine glanced down and saw the tray of bread and tea the woman held. After she had set it down on the small bedside table, Christine had no hesitation in devouring the little food that was set in front of her. The woman merely watched on with a small smile on her face, glad she was able to help the poor girl. Christine glanced up in embarrassment, only to have her fears subdued by the woman's kind expression. She sat back up after finishing her meal, and the pair sat in silence for a moment before the woman in black spoke again.
"Oh! How rude of me. I am Antoinette, Antoinette Giry." She extended her hand out for Christine to shake. Christine looked down at the woman's hand before cautiously taking it. "It's a pleasure, madame. I'm-" "Christine, yes I know. My daughter told me." Looking at the ground and shaking her head, the same question that had plagued Christine for the past day came to her mind again. "Madame-" "Please, call me Antoinette." "Antoinette, if you don't mind my asking, why are you and your daughter, and your employer I suppose, being so hospitable? My face must frighten you, does it not?' The kind older woman smiled at her in a loving, maternal way. "No, my dear, your face does not frighten me. Or my daughter, or our employer for that matter. But if you must know, for me it is your eyes. Just by looking in them I can see that you need someone to show you sympathy." From the expression the woman wore, Christine knew she was being truthful.
With another tender glance, Antoinette took Christine's hands into her own and began to carry on with the conversation, desperate to discover more about this girl. "Where are you from? Do you have any family?" With closed eyes and a sigh, Christine began to open up to this woman. "I-I'm from Sweden, but I moved to France when I was six, with my father. My mother had died in childbirth with me. My father was a violinist, and he played whenever he could to earn a little money. It was enough to support the both of us, but we had very little. But he died, when I was twelve. Ever since then I have been doing whatever I can to get by, yet my deformity holds me back from earning too much money. I always end up on the streets." "A violinist, you say? You must have grown up very musically." "Yes, I did. In fact, when I was young I had a mask, and I would go to perform with my father. I would sing while he played." "Sing for me." Christine looked at the woman in shock. Sing for her? "No, I really shouldn't-" "Nonsense, no one will be around to hear you. I'm sure it will be beautiful." As the poor girl still looked hesitant, Antoinette took matters into her own hands. She rose from her original spot, pulled the girl up, and sat back down on the bed, ready to hear her sing. "Sing, my dear. I will not take no for an answer." So with those words, Christine took a moment to breathe, and began to sing.
The outcome of her singing produced a noise so beautiful that Antoinette could only sit and stare, under the music's beautiful spell. She had chosen an aria sung by Barbarina from the opera The Marriage of Figaro, and her beautiful golden soprano tones soared across the room. The older woman sat and listened intently, a look of pure awe crossing her face.
Unknown to both of the women another figure stood outside the door, listening just as closely as Antoinette. After a long day working on final rehearsals for the opera house's new production of Faust, Erik had returned to his home, greeted by a voice flooding his house and filling it with beauty and warmth. As soon as Christine stopped singing the spell was broken, and in it's place came a flood of compliments from Antoinette. And still, Erik stood to listen, waiting for the old woman to leave so he could give the girl compliments from himself. And criticisms, of course. Her voice was beautiful, no doubt, but lacked emotion which held her back from reaching her full potential. Catching a glimpse of the man outside the door, the older woman knew it was time for her to take her leave, so with a goodbye and a pat on the hand she left, giving Erik his opportunity for entrance.
"That was beautiful. Where did you learn?" Christine jumped, not expecting any more company for the evening. Turning back to the man, she asked timidly "W-What do you mean monsieur?" Sighing in frustration, the man looked down at his hands, but he attempted to control his temper and glanced back up at the girl. "I mean, where did you learn to sing?" "Oh. My father taught me, monsieur. Up until I was twelve." "And why was that?" He asked with a condescending curiosity present in his voice. Glancing down at the floor, Christine replied "He died, 5 years ago." Only seventeen. Erik thought to himself. "He must have been a great teacher. But you need a teacher now, one who will tend to your voice now, if you intend to reach your full potential." At this Christine scoffed. "And who would teach me? No one wants to teach the monster with the deformed face." With this comment an idea came to Erik's mind. "I will teach you."
Christine could only stare in awe at the man. "You what?" "I said I will teach you. Do not make me repeat myself once more." "You do not want to teach me, I will only anger you." "I will teach you. Your voice is excellent already, but I can make it better." "B-But, monsieur-" "We will begin lessons tomorrow when I return home from work. Good evening, mademoiselle." And with that he left Christine by herself.
She moved to sit on the bed, in shock as to what had just happened to her. Why me? She thought to herself. But in the midst of her sorrow and surprise, a beam of sunshine began to shine through the haze as she began to realize music would become a part of her life again. For all she knew, this man could have been an angel. He rescued her in her time of need when no one else had, and he would be the one to bring back what was once so important in her life. A small grin crossed her face as she prepared for bed, and as she lay in bed she whispered something to herself she had not brought herself to say in a very long time. "Goodnight, papa."
A/N: Sooo what did you think? Okay first of all I just want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far! It means a lot to me. In fact, I get so excited I almost texted my beta at 5:30 in the morning to tell her that someone had reviewed. With that being said, on to my posting schedule! Since our school just got out yesterday, now that it is summer I am going to try to post about twice a week, but that may change since I am going to be traveling a lot. But anyways, thank you so much for reading and please remember to review!